


Are you who you want to be?

by lunasenzanotte



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Homophobia, Homosexuality, Homosexuality Cure Camp, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2018-09-01 04:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8608321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: Sergio and Fernando meet in a Cure Camp. Sergio has to undergo the homosexuality treatment to avoid prison, Fernando is there willingly so that his family doesn't suffer because of his orientation. They don't like each other from the start. But the Camp seems to have its own secrets, and maybe they can't face them alone...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I started this as a fill of a prompt at football_kink, but I visit the community so rarely that I brought it here.

Sergio still cannot grasp the absurdity of the situation.

Not only that he ended up in court where a judge is about to sentence him for being homosexual – he’s always known that there was a possibility this would happen sooner or later. But he would never fathom that it would be Iker who’d get him there. He even refused to believe it, he was stupid enough to tell himself it was Iker’s wife who led this crusade and Iker had nothing to do with it.

But now, Iker is sobbing his way through his final speech, and all that they had, all that they felt for each other, is coming out twisted, depraved and wrong.

“If I could turn back time, I’d never give in to that temptation. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you, Mr. Casillas. You may sit down.”

Sergio looks at him when he’s passing him to sit on the bench. “Iker, you can’t be serious...”

“Don’t talk to him!” Iker’s wife yells, jumping up. “Don’t talk to him, can’t you see that you’ve almost destroyed him with your perverted...”

“Order in the court!” the judge shouts, rapping with his gavel. “Mrs. Carbonero, I ask you to refrain from talking to the defendant or I will have to fine you.”

She sits down but continues to glare at Sergio. Iker won’t meet his eye.

Sure, Sergio understands what Iker could lose. He‘d lose his job, his wife would win the custody battle and as he‘d be labeled a depraved freak, he‘d most likely never see his children again. This campaign his wife leads against Sergio is actually an act of mercy from her. Why would Iker fight against it?

_He would fight if he loved you,_ a tiny voice in Sergio’s head says, and somehow the reasonable part of him can’t howl that voice down.

“Please, stand up,” the judge says and opens his file. “Mr. Ramos, the court has decided that you are guilty of family disruption. However, the court will take into consideration, upon your lawyer’s request, that your behavior was heavily influenced by your sexual orientation. The court is thus willing to order protective treatment instead of a custodial sentence.”

“Protective treatment?” Sergio spits out. “Who do you need to protect from me?”

Pilar, his lawyer and friend, lays a hand on his arm. “Your Honor,” she says. “May I have a minute with my client? I’d like to explain the situation to him.”

“Please,” the judge says, obviously fed up with Sergio’s attitude. 

Pilar turns to Sergio. “You should accept,” she says.

“I’m not an animal that can’t control itself!” Sergio hisses. “And I won’t let anyone try to make me straight!”

“This is your only chance,” Pilar says. “If you accept protective treatment, you won’t go to jail. But if you insist that you knew what you were doing and you could control yourself, you will be charged with _deliberate_ family disruption. I think protective treatment that takes a couple months is still better than five years in jail. I don’t need to remind you that people convicted of your crime are not treated very well there.”

“So it’s my fault that I am gay?” 

“No,” Pilar says calmly. “Your fault, in their eyes, is that you haven’t tried to do anything about it. That’s all they want.”

She is right, of course she is. Sergio knows that, only he cannot agree with the cure camp being the better option. Certainly not for his dignity.

"All right," Sergio sighs. "I'll do it."

“Very well,” the judge says, apparently relieved. “The custodian assigned to your case will give you a list of the facilities available. You are free to choose any cure camp from the list. I will see you after you complete your treatment, and based on the assessment from the camp I will give a final verdict. Until then, the trial is adjourned.”

Another rap of the gavel. Sergio stands there, watching Iker’s wife gather her things and Iker, like he is just another handbag, and make way for the door.

Iker never turns around.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Fernando announces his decision during the family dinner.

He took it several weeks ago but wanted to have everything planned before he would tell his family that he took the decision to undergo treatment. And he wanted to find the best place to do it as well. Now he has finally chosen. The Camp of St. Dymphna looks the most promising. The brochure boasts with great result.  _95% of our clients were cured and now lead a happy family life._ Accompanied by pictures of happy, cured clients smiling into the camera, holding babies and embracing their partners while two women dressed in white frame the group, a proud look on their faces.  _We combine the most effective methods approved by the Medical Association, such as psychotherapy, pharmacotherapy, counseling, and visualization._ The dark-haired woman dressed in white that looked proudly at her former clients is on this page as well, her portrait right next to the column listing her education and professional achievements. Inventing this method seems to be the highlight of her career.

“You don’t have to do this, Fernando,” his mother says after he’s done with his announcement. 

“Yes, I do,” Fernando says. “I don’t want to ruin anyone’s life.”

The silence at the table is heavy. His siblings stare into their plates. They know the burden as well as he does. When they were younger, they were always there for him when he was teased for his orientation. But now it’s not schoolyards and playgrounds anymore. Now standing up for him could cost them their careers and maybe even families, and he is not going to stand there and watch his family burn because of him.

It’s his mother again who speaks for them all.

“I just want you to know that we love you, and we will always love you, whatever you do,” she says and pats him on the shoulder.

Fernando smiles. He appreciates the support, but one look on his siblings’ faces tells him that he has to do this so that they could finally mean it.

 

 


	2. Fernando

The facility looks just like the pictures in the brochure – that, at least, is reassuring for Fernando. It is a beautiful place in the mountains, sort of the panorama they put on postcards. When Isra drops him off there, looking so uneasy that Fernando feels the need to assure him he doesn’t need him to accompany him inside, the place actually makes it easier to just wave and smile as his brother drives off.

A young woman in a bright yellow dress picks him up at the reception. “Dr. Sanz will see you in a bit, Mr. Torres,” she tells him. “I’ll just show you to your room so that you can leave your things there. I’ll just notify you that phones, laptops nor any other devices are permitted here. In case you brought some, you can leave them in the safe at the reception and they will be returned to you when you will be leaving.”

Fernando nods and follows her down the corridor. The house doesn’t look frightening either. Fernando had feared it would look like a mental asylum or something, but this looks more like a hotel.

Doctor Sanz’ office also looks more like an office of a regular psychologist than a renowned doctor. Only the certificates, framed photographs and prizes all around the office speak of her achievements. Doctor Sanz herself is a woman in her forties, with hair cut in a long bob.

“Sit down, please,” she smiles and takes a folder off her table. “May I offer you anything? Water, coffee...”

“No, thanks, I’m good,” Fernando says.

Dr. Sanz opens the folder and scans the first page quickly. “So, you are here at your own request,” she states. “Then I suppose you also chose our facility yourself. I can assure you that you’ve made the right choice.”

There is a knock on the door and then the door opens. It’s the woman in the yellow dress again. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Doctor, but the one with the court order is here,” she says.

“I’ll be there in a moment, Marisa,” Dr. Sanz says.

Marisa nods and closes the door again.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry,” Dr. Sanz smiles when she sees Fernando’s startled face. “We wouldn’t accept anyone violent or otherwise dangerous here. We are not a facility like that. Even those with the court order come here willingly.”

Fernando nods nervously and looks at her. “What is the chance of me... being cured?” he asks.

“That I can’t tell you yet,” Dr. Sanz says. “We will know more when we determine your level of homosexuality.”

Fernando just blinks. “What is that?”

“You see, people who are one hundred percent homosexual or heterosexual are extremely rare, if not nonexistent,” she smiles. “Most people have a certain ratio – they are mostly homosexual or mostly heterosexual. The ratio can be eighty to twenty or sixty to forty, it’s individual. But the closer it is to fifty-fifty, the better chances the client has.”

Fernando nods.

“See, we don’t promise that we will erase all of the homosexuality in you, that would be quite impossible. What we do here is basically reversing the ratio.”

“As in... I’ll still like men, but I’ll prefer women?”

“Exactly,” she smiles. “We will start with all the tests and procedures tomorrow. You don’t need to worry, you will have time to adapt to everything. And now, unless you have other questions, I’ll leave you. Marisa will show you around.”

Fernando nods and gets up, following the secretary out of the door.

 

~ ~ ~

 

When Fernando comes back to his room, he finds out, to his bewilderment, that he now has a roommate. Another man is unpacking his bag at the opposite side of the room. Fernando clears his throat and the man turns around.

“Oh. Hi, I’m Sergio,” he says, stretching over the bed separating him from Fernando to shake his hand. 

“Fernando,” Fernando says, still quite startled.

“Seems like we’re gonna be roommates,” Sergio grins.

“I... um... kind of thought we’d have separate rooms,” Fernando mumbles.

“I don’t think you need to fear me,” Sergio says with just a hint of irritation. “There are cameras everywhere, after all.”

Fernando looks around and indeed finds a camera in the corner of the room. Privacy most likely isn’t a part of the cure program.

“And besides that, have you seen the security guys? Those gorillas with batons and stun guns?” Sergio raises his brows.

“And?”

“Why do you think they are here? What would want to attack us here, in the middle of nowhere, boars or wolves?” Sergio chuckles. “So who else would they protect us from if not from each other?”

Fernando gulps. Sergio doesn’t seem to be surprised, though. He plops down on his bed like they are new roommates at a summer camp. “So, why did they send you here?” he asks casually.

“Nobody sent me,” Fernando frowns. “I came here on my own.”

“Why is that?” Sergio asks, a bit taken aback.

“What do you mean? I came here to do something about my orientation.”

“Does your orientation bother you?”

“Of course it does!” Fernando snaps. “Mainly because it bothers my family. I mean... they love me, but why should they suffer...”

“Oh, so it’s the same story as mine,” Sergio smirks. “To me, they also said ‘of course you have a choice, a cure camp or five years in jail, but we mean well.’”

Fernando’s eyes go wide and he forgets to breathe momentarily when he realizes who Sergio is. Sergio is the one with the court order.

 

 


	3. Sergio

When Sergio wakes up, his roommate is already gone. It doesn’t surprise him. Since he mentioned his court order, Fernando has been avoiding him like Sergio had the plague.

He doesn’t care. He has enough problems on his own, he doesn’t need to add someone else’s insecurities to them. Pilar has given him clear instructions – don’t get in trouble, get out as soon as possible with a good record. She had picked this institution for him, because as she said:  _“if the state is going to pay for it, then at least let it be something fancier and not some former military quarters”_ . She also told him that he could think whatever he wanted, as long as he could hide it and get the assessment they needed. And Sergio is set to do just that.

He gets dressed and heads to the canteen. When he arrives, it’s already mostly full. He heads towards the only table that has free places, and only then he notices that one of its occupants is Fernando. Oh well, Sergio can deal with that.

“So you are the one with the court order, eh?” one of the men asks. “Are you sure that you wouldn’t be better off in jail?”

Sergio frowns, shooting daggers at Fernando with his eyes. “Well, here I likely won’t spend five years.”

“Fair enough,” the guy grins. Seeing his teeth, Sergio is at least sure that nobody will make fun of his. Then he realizes that this is not a summer camp and people here probably don’t give each other stupid nicknames anymore. “And food is also better.” He stretches over the table and holds out his hand. “I’m Gerard.”

“Sergio.”

“So we have one with a court order, and one that walked in this hole willingly,” another guy concludes. “That’s some strong coffee even for the morning.”

“If you mean Fernando, I’ve not yet quite grasped it either,” Sergio sighs, making sure that Fernando is already done eating his toast and is now leaving the canteen. “And on top of everything, he has to be my roommate.”

“You wouldn’t want to be in my place, trust me,” Gerard grins and slams his palm in his neighbor’s back, causing him to spit out a piece of scrambled eggs. “I got Cesc here.”

“Also, he’s not the only fool out there, don’t worry,” Cesc smirks. “Saúl over there wants to be a soldier, but they will accept no homo in the army. So he needs the paper from here to go and let himself be killed somewhere far away... Hell, that makes even less sense spoken aloud.”

“But those fools are not by far the worst,” Gerard knows.

“Which ones are the worst, then?” Sergio asks.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Cesc smirks. “Well, need to run. I have group therapy. My favorite.”

“He usually makes the therapist cry,” Gerard explains. “Normally it’s the other way around.”

Sergio chuckles and finishes his breakfast. Then he heads to the director’s office, to solve the remaining paperwork. The longer he can avoid the actual procedures, the better.

 

~ ~ ~

 

When he knocks on the door of Dr. Sanz’ office, it’s the nurse that opens the door. When she beckons him to come in, Sergio notices that Dr. Sanz is in the nurse’s room as well, and there is a young, dark-haired boy sitting on the examination table.

“Continue to my office, please,” Dr. Sanz says, taking a syringe from the nurse. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Sergio nods, but he moves slowly, watching the scene incredulously. The doctor finds a vein with practiced ease and then hands the empty syringe back to the nurse. “You know the drill, Álvaro,” she says almost cheerfully. “Today’s dose is a bit stronger, so lay back for a while and then get up slowly. We don’t want to be picking you up from the floor.”

The boy smiles almost gratefully. “Thank you, Doctor.”

When she moves, Sergio quickly walks into the room and sits in one of the two armchairs. The doctor then closes the door behind her and sits opposite to him with a file in her hands.

“What was that?” Sergio asks before she can utter a word. “What did you give him?”

“Suppressants.” The doctor’s expression doesn’t change. “Pharmacotherapy is one of the parts of our program. Everyone responds to different methods differently. Some need more psychotherapy than others, some respond well to visualization. Álvaro responds well to pharmacotherapy, so that is what we focus on.”

Sergio grits his teeth. “You are not going to stick any needles in me, ever.”

Doctor Sanz leans back in her chair. “You are not here to tell us how to do our work, Sergio,” she says. “I’ll remind you again that this isn’t a prison. We are not holding you here against your will. If you wish to leave, you are free to do so. But if you want to stay, you’ll have to play by the rules and undergo all procedures prescribed to you. I think now is the best time to decide.”

Sergio swallows all the words that he feels like yelling in this woman’s face and nods defeatedly. He really hates himself in that moment.

 


	4. Fernando

When Fernando arrives in the relax room, as they call the place where they can hang out in between their therapies and meals, it’s already full of people. He notices with relief that Sergio isn’t there. He feels uncomfortable in the company of the man, and it has probably nothing to do with him being there because the court ordered him to undergo the treatment. It’s Sergio’s attitude that worries him. He’s so negative and dismissive of everything, like he doesn’t want to be cured just so that he can show everyone that they cannot break him. Like being gay is something to be proud of. Like it’s something that doesn’t hurt other people.

Sergio’s sister, if he has one, clearly didn’t have to struggle to find a job, because no parents wanted their kids to be taught by a teacher with a gay brother, and his brother didn’t get fired from his job because how could a person with a gay brother work for the regional council?

“So, how are you settling in?” Gerard asks him casually like he is supposed to have fun here.

“It’s quite all right,” Fernando says. “I had group therapy today.”

“Oh, so you saw Cesc in action,” Gerard grins. “Did Dr. Aranburu cry today?”

“No, she didn’t,” Fernando laughs. “But maybe she was close at one moment.”

“Cesc wasn’t at his best, then,” Gerard says. “So probably Dr. Alonso will leave him alone today.”

“Who is Dr. Alonso?” Fernando asks, moving closer.

“Her husband. Our narrative therapist,” Gerard says. “A pain in the ass. Unless you are willing to tell him your whole life story from birth until now, with all the details about when, how and who you shagged in your life, you have a serious problem.”

Fernando just gulps.

“It’s still okay, though. At least this is not one of those places where they drug you up so that your system is all fucked up and you’re impossibly hard, and then they stick a vibrator up your ass and leave you there for hours or even days,” Cesc says. “You’re supposed to stop liking having something in your asshole after that, apparently.”

“Those don’t exist,” Gerard snorts. “It’s like one of those urban legends, but if you actually believe...”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Gerard looks up in surprise, and so does the rest of them. There is a younger boy looming above Gerard, looking at him angrily. Fernando remembers him from the group session but doesn’t think he’s heard him speak up there. He was among those who pretended they weren’t there.

“Say it once more, and I’ll punch you in the face,” the boy says.

“What’s wrong with you, Illarra?” Gerard frowns.

“Nothing!” Illarra barks. “I just envy you. I’d very much like to believe that those places don’t exist, but they do. And I’m a living proof that they don’t work. Quite lucky to be the _living_ proof.”

Everyone just stares at him, and for the first time, both Gerard and Cesc look like they’ve lost their words.

“Well, sorry,” Gerard blurts out then. 

Illarra glares at them some more and then he leaves the room. Gerard and Cesc exchange worried glances and then start whispering to each other urgently. Fernando moves away from them and finds himself next to Saúl, who is just sitting there reading a book. Judging from the pages Fernando can see, it’s about how to survive in the wild.

“Have you heard...” Fernando starts.

“I don’t listen,” Saúl says, not even lifting his eyes from the book. “I never listen. If you want to get out of here with that damn paper, it’s best to be deaf and blind most of the time.”

“But... that’s not the point!” Fernando objects. “Having the paper is not the point, it’s...”

“For some of us, it’s all that matters,” Saúl shrugs. “It protects you, makes you valid. Some of us don’t ask for more.”

Fernando just sits there for a while, trying to process all that he’s heard during the past few minutes. Then he gets up and goes to his room. He’s shaken and needs to calm down.

But unfortunately, when he opens the door, Sergio is already in the room, lying on his bed.

To Fernando’s surprise, he looks shaken as well.

 


	5. Sergio

Fernando still pretends that Sergio doesn’t exist.  This, in a way, isn’t that bad. Sometimes, he annoys Sergio so much that he thinks his hope for freedom will be destroyed by something as stupid as one annoying roommate.

But right now, the silence is maddening.

“So,” Sergio says, still staring at the ceiling. “How gay are you?”

There is some soft rustling of clothes as Fernando probably sits up to look at him.

“What?” he asks incredulously.

“I said, how much gay are you, according to them?”

“You mean… the ratio?” Fernando asks seriously, like they are really talking about something scientifically proven and not a bunch of bullshit someone has made a lot of money on.

“Yeah,” Sergio growls and finally turns around to face him. “I mean the ratio.”

“Seventy-five to twenty-five,” Fernando says sheepishly and lowers his eyes.

“Congrats,” Sergio mumbles.

“What do you mean, congrats?” Fernando sputters. “How far is seventy-five from fifty?”

“Not as far as my ninety, I suppose,” Sergio says and smirks when Fernando gasps. “Yeah, if I really believed in this bullshit, I’d be quite depressed.”

“If you believed…” Fernando shakes his head. “I don’t know why you are here.”

“Because I don’t want to go to jail,” Sergio answers simply.

“You’ll go there anyway,” Fernando mumbles and lies back on his bed. “With this attitude, they won’t give you the paper in a million years.”

Before Sergio can retort something, t here is a knock on the door and then Marisa, the receptionist, pokes her head in.

“You have a phone call,” she informs Sergio.

Sergio gets up and follows her, grateful for the distraction and opportunity to be free of Fernando’s accusing glances. Marisa points to the phone and then moves to pick up some files from the table.

“Sorry, but can’t you...” Sergio gestures vaguely.

“No, I’m sorry,” she says. “Nobody can be left at the reception desk unattended. It’s in the internal regulations, which you have signed, I believe.”

Sergio sighs and picks up the phone. “Hello?”

“Sergio?” Pilar’s voice says.

“Yeah, hi,” Sergio says.

“How are you?”

“Thanks for asking. I’ve never been in a better place,” Sergio says in the sweetest tone he is capable of.

Pilar pauses. “Are they listening?” she asks.

“Yes.”

Sergio hears a quiet sigh. “No wonder,” she states. “Listen, Sergio, I talked to the prosecutor. If you complete the program, he won’t even ask for probation.”

“That’s great,” Sergio says without much enthusiasm.

“Sergio, that’s the most I can do for you.”

“I know,” Sergio sighs. “Just... you don’t know...”

“Is it really that bad?” Pilar asks with a certain amount of compassion in her voice.

“I... I don’t know... It just...” he looks over at Marisa, who is pretending to be writing something on the computer, but he is quite sure that she is listening intently. “I will manage.”

“You just need to be a good actor,” she says. “Don’t let them get you.”

“I won’t.”

But when he hangs up, he actually isn’t that sure.

 

~ ~ ~

 

When he returns to his room, Fernando is pretending to be reading a book, but Sergio is quite sure that he saw him reading this very page with this picture three days ago, so unless he has to read everything over thrice, there is no way he is actually reading it.

“Your family?” Fernando asks when Sergio settles on the bed again.

“What?”

“You had a call. Was it your family?”

“No,” Sergio says and looks at him. “My lawyer.”

“Oh.”

“My family wouldn’t call me in a million years,” Sergio laughs humorlessly. “And I probably wouldn’t want them to.”

Fernando finally stops pretending that he is reading. He pushes the book aside and looks at Sergio. But Sergio isn’t quite in the mood for family talk.

“So,” he says and clears his throat. “What kind of therapy did they prescribe to you?”

Fernando can see his effort to escape right away but doesn’t comment on it. “Well, Dr. Sanz thinks I could respond well to narrative therapy and visualization, so…”

“Yeah,” Sergio mumbles. “Well, for me it’s mostly group therapy. Apparently, I need to recognize that being gay is bad in front of other people before I can move on.”

“I had group therapy today,” Fernando says. “It’s not that bad. Dr. Aranburu usually finds someone willing to talk, so the rest can just pretend they are not there. Usually, the one is Cesc, though, so in the end, she is happy that he shuts up.”

Sergio laughs. “Yeah, I’ve had the pleasure to meet Cesc already. And Gerard. They are our only hope that the doctors here will go mad before we do.”

Fernando smiles somehow shyly like he finds Sergio’s thoughts funny but doesn’t quite dare to laugh at them. “But then…” he says. “I’ve heard people talk about a… different kind of places. I mean…”

“Oh, yeah,” Sergio says. “People think they don’t exist, though.”

“I thought that too, but there’s this guy here, Illarra… and he says he was there.”

Sergio nods thoughtfully. “Well, after what I saw today, I’m not sure that this place will be much different,” he says.

“What do you mean?” Fernando asks and moves closer unwittingly so that there is only the gap between their beds separating them.

“I saw the doctor stick a needle in one boy’s vein and pump a dose of something she calls suppressants into him. Apparently, she does it quite often and says that it will make him less gay. And the worst thing is that he even thanks her for that, although it’s some shit that is so strong he couldn’t even walk away without the nurse supporting him.”

Fernando just stares at him with his eyes wide open.

Sergio shrugs. “Guess group therapy won’t be so bad compared to that, eh?”

 

 


	6. Fernando

When Fernando wakes up, Sergio is gone. Which is quite strange, because Sergio is quite the sleeper and Fernando always makes sure to leave the room before he wakes up to avoid him for as long as possible. For a moment he thinks that he's overslept, but when he checks the alarm clock, it's seven o'clock sharp.

He showers quickly and goes to the dining room. Sergio isn't there either. At their table, Cesc and Gerard are submerged in a heated discussion about some article in the newspapers, while Saúl is sitting with the quiet boy, Álvaro, apparently enjoying their mutual silence.

Fernando is just about to ask for the permission to sit with them when Cesc spots him.

“Hey!” he yells. “Where is your roomie? Did you finally murder him?”

“No,” Fernando says bluntly. “I have no idea where he is.”

“In Doctor Sánz' office,” Illarra's detached voice informs them. “I saw him going there on my way from the gym.”

“Ah, no good, no good,” Gerard tuts. “Getting a scolding in the morning...”

“He's done nothing wrong,” Fernando objects. “I mean, I was with him since yesterday afternoon and...”

“Of course,” Gerard grins. “But this is like religion, you know. You don't have to _do_ anything bad, sinful thoughts are enough.”

In that moment, Sergio appears at the door. Fernando hopes everyone will act inconspicuous, but the way they all fall silent makes it obvious they were just talking about him.

“You survived,” Fernando comments.

“Yeah,” Sergio mumbles and sits down opposite to him, like it's the most natural thing. No avoiding nor sneering. “For now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember my lawyer who called me yesterday? She said the prosecutor promised he wouldn't ask for probation if I completed the treatment.”

“And?”

“What she forgot to tell me, or what the prosecutor forgot to tell her, was that I needed my ratio to be at least forty to sixty if that was to be the case.”

Fernando swallows hard. “That's...”

“Yes. That's madness.”

“That's the standard they ask for,” Cesc chimes in. “Everywhere. Ask Saúl. He needs that to go to the army as well.”

“You forget that Saúl's initial ratio was just sixty-five to thirty-five,” Gerard smiles. “While our friend here is gay as fuck.”

Fernando is about to shush them, but Sergio actually laughs. “Thanks,” he says. “That's by far the best diagnosis.”

“No problem,” Gerard winks and gets up. “Have to run. I have narrative therapy.”

“Hey, when Alonso asks to name all people you shagged, leave me out,” Cesc says.

“I wouldn't touch you with a broom,” Gerard makes a face. “See you.”

Fernando finishes his breakfast, wondering why he doesn't even mind their disgusting jokes anymore. Then he looks at Sergio. “What do you have now?”

“Group therapy with Aranburu.”

Fernando says a quick prayer in his mind. Having a group therapy in Sergio's presence is a nightmare come true.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Fernando catches himself watching Sergio more than paying attention to what is being said. It's going according to the usual script anyway. Cesc babbles away at first, until Aranburu stops him and asks another question. Silence follows, because nobody is willing to answer. Then she turns to Álvaro and reduces him to tears in minutes. When Fernando finally stops watching Sergio's disgusted expression, Álvaro is practically sobbing in Dr. Aranburu's lap, getting through the box of paper tissues at light speed.

“It's all right, darling, you've done so well,” Dr. Aranburu coos and gently pushes him away, discreetly checking whether her jacket hasn't suffered any significant damage. “How about our newbie now? Sergio?”

Sergio looks at her with a mixture of horror and defiance. “What?”

“Tell us about your first time.”

“Eh... I don't really feel like it.”

“No one does,” Dr. Aranburu says calmly. “But it's important to break the ice, and this is the best way to start.”

“I think it's quite a big thing to start with,” Sergio frowns.

Dr. Aranburu doesn't seem to mind him questioning her methods, though. Which, to Fernando, seems to be a bit of a paradox, considering how Cesc's stupidities usually distress her. “Yes, that's the point,” she nods. “Anything else will seem easy after that.”

She straightens and then crosses her legs again. “You have nothing to fear, you are among friends,” she says softly. “One of the rules of our group is that everything said in here stays in this room. Come on. Your first time.”

Fernando realizes that he's holding his breath. He expects Sergio to storm out at any given moment. Which is why he's blown away when Sergio actually starts talking.

“I was eighteen,” he says, looking at the tips of his shoes. “I worked at a grocery store over the summer. There was this guy...”

He pauses and looks up. Dr. Aranburu smiles. “Yes? Go on.”

“He was younger than me, a kid doing a summer job, and he... seemed to like me. So I, like... took a chance... after closing hour... in the store room.”

Cesc whispers something to Saúl next to him and Saúl hits him, pulling his chair as far away from him as the circle allows him.

“Yeah, that's... that's how it was... we did it and... he never came back.”

“Were you on top?” Aranburu asks in a flat voice, not lifting her eyes from her papers.

“Wha-” Sergio gasps before falling back in his role. “Yeah. Yeah, I topped.”

“And you've always had it like that since, I suppose?”

“Like... I usually top?”

“Yes,” Aranburu nods and looks at him. “To me it seems you like the dominance. You like having control. A younger guy, you on top...”

“Probably.”

She gives a satisfied smile and makes a note. “Is there anything else you want to tell us?”

“I don't think so. No.”

“Thank you, then. I think it's all for today.”

Fernando watches Sergio get up slowly, almost like he's half-paralyzed, and just as he's walking out, Fernando notices him rubbing his eyes and he gets the nagging feeling that something about Sergio's story, if not all, was a bit off.

 

~ ~ ~

 

He is just about to go look for Sergio when he spots Dr. Sánz walking out of her office with a short, dark-haired guy Fernando hasn't seen here before. The guy notices him and flashes him a shy smile that Fernando is sure would turn everyone's knees into jelly. Stopping him from seducing other guys should be the country's first priority if they want to reduce the percentage of gays.

“Well, I wonder why that one is here,” he hears Cesc's voice behind him. “Doesn't look too guilty about being what he is, eh?”

“Look at yourself,” Fernando mumbles. “I see no guilt when I look at you.”

“That's because I'm not guilty, I'm a victim,” Cesc explains like he has a decree stating this signed by the government. Then he grins at Dr. Sánz. “Any chance I could get a new roommate?”

“No,” she says curtly.

“Please?” Cesc blinks pleadingly. “Gerard's making me mad.”

“He says the same thing about you,” Dr. Sánz deadpans. “Which is why keeping you two together is the safest option. David here is getting a single room for now.”

The guy flashes them another shy smile before trotting behind the doctor like an obedient dog. Fernando looks at Cesc and raises his brows. “Didn't know there were single rooms,” he says.

“Man, me neither,” Cesc chuckles. “Me neither.”

 


	7. Sergio

Sergio storms out of the therapy room and heads straight to the toilets. He bangs the stall door behind him and crouches next to the toilet, but he can’t even throw up. The awful feeling is much deeper and he can’t get it out. He looks up to where a small window is open ajar. It wouldn’t be hard to unhinge it and climb out. But then, he doesn’t even have to do it. He can as well walk out through the main door. This is not prison. But prison is where he will end up if he leaves, or if he doesn’t get his ratio to forty to sixty, no matter that he thinks it’s bullshit. And he’s heard a lot about the prisons for people like him, and he doesn’t think he’d survive it.

On the other hand, neither he thinks he could survive this, that woman forcing him to tell everyone about his most intimate things while she scribbles something in her notepad and then, which he is sure would happen sooner or later, making him publicly shame himself because of it.

And mainly, he doesn’t think that only talking and counseling could switch his ratio, however they measure it.

But he cannot let Pilar down, either. She risked everything for him, just defending someone like him cost her a few friends and probably even more potential clients, but she still did it for him. If he quits now, her sacrifices will be worth nothing.

Which is why he goes through a panic attack, curled up next to the toilet like a stupid teenage girl, and stays there for a long time. He knows he can’t go like this anymore, and to think up a plan, he certainly can’t have Cesc and Gerard around him.

When he leaves his refuge, he knows what he has to do, and although he hates himself for it, he is determined to be the only one to suffer here.

~ ~ ~

He heads straight to Dr. Sánz’ office and knocks on the door. The nurse opens the door and then turns back in question.

Dr. Sánz is there, holding a syringe, looking mightily annoyed. “Sergio?” she asks and raises her brows.

“I need to talk to you,” Sergio says.

“Well, I have some work here, you see?” she says still in that sweet voice.

“Please,” Sergio breathes out. “I know I don’t have an appointment, but it’s urgent.”

She sighs and motions for him to come in. Sergio shoots an uneasy look at Álvaro and looks away as she sticks the needle in the boy’s vein. He doesn’t know why, but he thinks of death row inmates and lethal injections. He sort of feels like he’s on death row, too.

“Good, we’re done here. Stay here for a while, rest. The nurse will check on you. I’ll see you before you go,” the doctor says and then looks at Sergio and nods towards her office.

Sergio sits in the chair, waiting for her to close the door and sit behind the desk. “So, what is so urgent that it couldn’t wait?” she asks.

Sergio wonders whether he really has this vibe that makes people automatically hostile towards him. So far, as soon as he opens his mouth, everyone hates him immediately. The judge, this doctor, Dr. Aranburu, Fernando, even Saúl and Álvaro, who are probably the kindest souls in the whole universe, look like they would prefer him to live on another planet.

“I… I was thinking about what you told me in the morning. The ratio I needed and… I don’t think the plan we have so far is working for me.”

Dr. Sánz smiles condescendingly. “Sergio, it’s too soon to judge.”

Sergio shakes his head desperately. “No, it’s not, it’s… I know myself. This isn’t going to work. And… you were right when you said I needed to decide whether I wanted to be cured or not.”

She nods slowly and leans closer to him. The hostility seems to have diminished. “I see you’ve made your decision.”

“Yes,” Sergio says and feels his mouth go dry. “I want this. I… I want to change.”

Dr. Sánz looks at him for a while, searching his face for any kind of falseness, but then she reaches for her file. “Ninety to ten,” she says and sighs. “Getting it to forty to sixty… I admit that Dr. Aranburu would have to be a genius to achieve that with group therapy alone.”

Sergio bites his lip. “These… suppressants,” he says and lowers his eyes. “Those that you give to Álvaro. Do you think they could work on me?”

Dr. Sánz raises her brows. “As far as I remember, you told me I’d never get to stick a needle in you.”

“I know,” Sergio says and looks at her. “But if this is what has to be done, then I’ll do it.”

She thinks for a while, tapping the tip of her pen against the paper. “Well, I see nothing significant in your medical record… no previous drug use, no diseases, mental diagnosis… no objective reason why you couldn’t be given the suppressants.” She lifts her head and looks at him. “If you really want to start the therapy, then I’ll need you to sign some forms. You need to know that the suppressants are designed to diminish your sexual appetite whatsoever in the first place. That gives us a blank canvas and through additional therapy, like, for example, visualization, we can achieve the reverse ratio.”

Sergio nods hesitantly. “Fine.”

“During the time you use them, you mustn’t drink alcohol, use drugs or other medication whatsoever, and you cannot do any excessive physical activities. Nothing out of normal. And, the most important thing… Once the main therapy is over, you’ll need to take some lighter suppressants orally.”

Sergio nods again. He’s past the point of caring. He’s disgusted with himself more than he is disgusted with this whole thing. They broke him. And it didn’t even take them too long.

“If you agree with that, then we can sign those, and begin with the therapy tomorrow.” With obvious delight, she pulls out some forms. Sergio doesn’t even read them, just fills his name where needed and signs them.

“Good,” Dr. Sánz says and gives him an encouraging smile. “We’ll get to work tomorrow, then. I’ll see you out.”

She walks to the door and opens it. Sergio drags his feet out of her office.

“So, how are we?” he hears her voice behind him.

“Fine,” Álvaro replies. To Sergio he sounds all but fine.

“The pulse is slightly lower,” the nurse says.

“That’s normal,” Dr. Sánz dismisses her. “Still in the range. I want you to rest today, Álvaro, okay? You’re going to feel a little tired, that’s completely fine, but we don’t want to force anything. Whatever is still in your daily program, it’s cancelled.”

Sergio walks out of the office and takes a deep breath. He knows that he has to go in his room and face Fernando now, and he would maybe prefer another group therapy with Aranburu, but that’s another reason to get out of here as soon as possible.

He puts on a neutral face and heads to the stairs.


	8. Fernando

When Fernando enters his room after dinner, to his surprise, he finds Sergio there, staring at the ceiling.

“Where the hell were you?” he asks. “I… we were worried.”

Sergio laughs humorlessly. “Right. You were worried I decided to get the fuck out of here and they’d once again focus on you?”

Fernando sighs. “No,” he says and sits on the bed. “I was worried because you didn’t seem to be okay after the narrative therapy, and then you just disappeared for hours.”

Sergio doesn’t move, but his eyes flicker in Fernando’s direction for a moment. “Fine,” he growls then.

“No, it’s not fine,” Fernando retorts. “I know you lied, okay? Dr. Aranburu may not, because your story was just what she wanted to hear, but I’m not buying it.”

Sergio snorts.

“You’ll never get cured if you lie during therapy,” Fernando says. “You know that, right?”

“And who the fuck cares?” Sergio spits and finally looks at him. “Who do you even think you are?”

“I care,” Fernando says, surprised at the calmness of his voice. He knows that if Sergio decided to beat the crap out of him, he’d probably stand no chance, but somehow he knows it won’t happen. “And I dare to think I’m the only… kind of… friend you have here.”

Sergio seems to be fuming for a couple seconds more, but then he slowly lowers himself back on the bed. “I went to Dr. Sánz’ office,” he says and his voice sounds strangely flat. “I asked her to start with pharmacotherapy.”

Fernando gulps. “Wh-what?” he breathes out. “But you said… why?”

“Because my ratio is ninety to ten. Because if anything can make them believe I tried, it’s this. And because… whatever is in those injections, it’s going to be less painful than the other things.”

Fernando just stares at him. “What… other things?” he asks.

Sergio runs a hand over his face. “My first time…” he says slowly. “I was sixteen. I worked at a grocery store over the summer. There was this guy…”

Fernando realizes that he’s holding his breath, and he forces himself to breathe.

“He was older than me, and I was just a kid doing a summer job. So… after closing time, he found me in the store room, and… took his chance, I guess.”

“Sergio…” Fernando whispers, in a feeble attempt to stop him.

“I never came back after that. I hated myself, and I hated him, because I thought that maybe… maybe if we didn’t do that, I’d never start liking boys… of course it’s bullshit, but… I really thought that maybe I wouldn’t know I liked boys, and I’d find myself a girlfriend and just… live, you know? Maybe I would be wondering what was missing in my life, but what if it never occurred to me that it was because of that?”

Fernando takes a breath to say something, but he doesn’t quite know what. When he turns his head, he realizes that Sergio is now looking at him.

“You get it now?” he asks. “I can’t tell these stories to people, let that women scribble them in that notebook of hers. I can’t.”

“You told me,” Fernando says. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Sergio shrugs. “I… I guess that I was afraid it would suffocate me.”

Fernando nods. “Yeah. Anytime. I mean, I’ll listen to you anytime you… need.”

Sergio laughs, a strange, high-pitched laughter that sounds so much unlike him. “I’d hold your hand now if it didn’t mean risking the gorillas storming in here to tear us apart.”

Fernando laughs as well and switches off the lamp. He’s not entirely sure if the cameras don’t have some infra-red technology, but he still feels bolder like this. He finds Sergio’s hand in the empty space between their beds and holds it.

 

~ ~ ~

 

They wake up to the sound of a door being slammed somewhere at the end of the corridor. Fernando opens his eyes to the darkness and listens intently. He thinks that he can hear voices, but isn’t entirely sure where they come from.

“Did you hear that?” Sergio whispers.

“Yeah,” Fernando whispers back. “What do you think…”

“Let’s go,” Sergio interrupts him and before Fernando can object, he’s at the door, opening it slowly.

The emergency lamps are the only source of light, but even so, they can see that one door is open. Then Marisa the receptionist emerges from the shadows of the staircase, followed by Dr. Sánz, and they disappear in the room.

“Come,” Sergio whispers and creeps out of the door.

Fernando wants to object that it’s not their business, that they’re going to get in trouble if someone sees them, but Sergio is already out and the only thing he can do is follow him. Because he’s not going to leave him alone in it.

The voices coming from the room are muffled but urgent. Halfway through the corridor, Fernando realizes whose room it is. Saúl’s and Álvaro’s.

Sergio presses a finger to his lips as they hide in the shadows. Fernando nods, but as soon as they look inside the room, he has to clamp a hand over his own mouth to prevent himself from making a sound.

Dr. Sánz rips the pillow from underneath Álvaro’s head and although she has her back to them, Fernando and Sergio both know she must be performing the CPR. Saúl is standing at the wall, biting his nails.

“We have to call the ambulance,” Marisa says, her voice shaking.

“No,” Dr. Sánz says through gritted teeth. “We have to deal with this ourselves. It can’t get out.”

“But…” Marisa objects.

“You’re in it as well,” Dr. Sánz hisses. “Don’t you dare.”

Fernando turns to Sergio, but then realizes that Sergio is no longer there. He spots his silhouette near the abandoned reception desk. Fernando curses in his mind and tries to reach him as fast and as quietly as possible.

“What are you doing?” he whispers.

“Calling an ambulance,” Sergio says, reaching for the phone. “Before the two hags let him die.”

“You can’t…” Fernando tries to say, but then realizes that Sergio is right.

Something is wrong here, and the doctor is determined to keep the secret even if it costs someone their life.

He nods, watching Sergio dial the number, and wonders if his last hope of getting cured is just going down the sewer.

Then he looks into the semi-darkness of the corridor, and notices that the very last door, the one that doesn’t even have a number on it, is slightly ajar, and a pair of dark eyes is watching them curiously.

David keeps watching them until the sirens sound from the outside. Then he nods to them curtly and closes the door.


	9. Sergio

Nobody sleeps that night. Even the people who had no idea something was happening were woken up by the sirens and commotion, and the security had quite a hard time keeping them in their rooms. Fernando and Sergio used the chaos to creep back to their room, but Sergio is still fairly sure that once everything calms down, someone is going to call them out on it.

What worries him even more, however, is that his first session of pharmacotherapy doesn’t get cancelled. They receive their daily programs at breakfast and there is no significant change in them, like nothing ever happened. And everyone around Sergio indeed acts like nothing ever happened, only Gerard and Cesc look like they are biting their tongues constantly. With their curiosity, they must be truly suffering. 

“Are they all really going to pretend everything is completely fine?” Fernando whispers as David passes them by without even looking in their direction.

“I’m afraid that they are. See who’s missing?” Sergio asks.

Fernando looks around. “Saúl,” he says and then looks at Sergio with panic. “You don’t think that they…”

Before Sergio can say anything, Saúl walks in, followed by Dr. Sánz, Dr. Aranburu and Marisa. Dr. Sánz claps her hands and everyone turns to her, like they are children at a summer camp. 

“May I have your attention, please?” she says with a wide smile. Although Sergio is glad that they didn’t murder Saúl, he doesn’t like this at all. “We have some great news to share. Saúl will be leaving us today.”

A quiet murmur rises up, but then the dining room goes silent again when Dr. Sánz pulls out a piece of paper. There is some strange hunger in everyone’s eyes. What she is holding is a treasure, the most prized possession that everyone wants to hold in their hands.

“We are very proud of his achievements, and also of the work of our doctors here, who managed to reverse his ratio to the desired forty to sixty. I also hope it will be an encouragement to you all. As you can see, with hard work and determination, it’s possible to achieve it.”

Everyone claps their hands, more or less enthusiastically, while Saúl accepts his certificate from Dr. Sánz. He looks everything but happy. Most of all, he looks like he’d rather be somewhere else now.

“Well, now let’s go back to our program,” Dr. Sánz smiles. “I’d just like to remind you that whoever had narrative therapy scheduled for this morning, it’s been moved to afternoon as Dr. Alonso had to urgently solve something.”

Sergio exchanges looks with Fernando and then gets up. He reaches Saúl when he’s just about to walk out of the dining room.

“They bought you with this?” he asks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Saúl mumbles, but doesn’t look at Sergio.

“You know that very well. They gave you this paper so that they’d get rid of you. Is that right? The perfect ratio for your silence.”

Now Saúl looks at him defiantly. “And if they did? If you were in my shoes, wouldn’t you take it? Wouldn’t it be worth it?”

“No,” Sergio snaps. “Everyone here deserves the truth. The whole world deserves to know the truth!”

“The world doesn’t care, Sergio!” Saúl says.

“Then at least Álvaro deserves the truth.” 

Saúl looks him in the eyes and for a moment, Sergio hopes that he will change his mind.

“Sorry,” he whispers and pushes past him.

Sergio turns around and shoots a furious look at Fernando, but Fernando just shakes his head. Sergio takes a deep breath. He knows he’s walking on thin ice now, and if he’s to survive, he has to find another way. 

 

~ ~ ~

 

When the nurse opens the door, he feels like running away. Or more, he feels like a sheep willingly walking to its death. 

“Dr. Sánz is waiting for you in her office,” the nurse says.

“But… I thought we’d do it here?”

“Dr. Sánz wants to talk to you.”

Sergio nods and drags his feet to the office. Dr. Sánz looks at him and points to the chair. 

“You look nervous,” she notes.

“Well, after what happened at night…” Sergio says.

“Nothing happened at night, Sergio,” she says calmly.

“But…”

“If I understand it well, you are here because you don’t want to go to jail.”

“Yes.”

“So let me tell you this. You will forget that anything happened at night, I will forget that you broke the rules of our facility and called the ambulance. I saw you on the security cameras.”

Sergio gulps. “You can’t pretend that nothing happened. Everyone knows.”

“Nobody knows, Sergio. And those who do have a good reason to stay silent. Including you. I don’t think you’d want me to kick out your roommate, who was on the security cameras with you. He wouldn’t thank you for that, would he?”

“Are you threatening me?”

Dr. Sánz smiles calmly. “Offering you a deal.”

“I’m not Saúl, you can’t buy me.”

“Very well. So I suppose you just want to leave now. I’ll give the judge a call, the police can be here in twenty minutes. I’ll also inform your roommate that his program has been terminated, and that unfortunately I can’t recommend him for treatment at another facility,” she says and leans back in her chair. “Or we will go to the laboratory and start with pharmacotherapy now, and forget that we ever talked about this?”

Sergio bites on his lower lip. “I… I don’t want this. It… it almost killed him, I don’t want to die.”

Dr. Sánz laughs shortly. “Nothing will happen to you. What happened to the poor boy was extremely rare, and it could happen with any kind of medication.” She picks up a file from the table and then puts it back. “But if you have any doubts, we don’t have to get on with the procedure. Just bear in mind we’re not going to be able to get to forty to sixty without pharmacotherapy, and thus you’re not likely to avoid prison.”

Sergio closes his eyes. “Fine,” he says.

Dr. Sánz closes the file and gets up. “Let’s go, then.”

She leads him to the laboratory and motions towards the bed. “Prepare the dose, please,” she tells the nurse. 

Sergio feels his heart beating somewhere in his throat. He remembers Álvaro, his forced smile as he willingly let the doctor slowly poison him with whatever he thought was helping him. He wonders why he is willing to do the same, to sacrifice himself for the sake of others when no one has ever sacrificed themselves for him. No one. Not even Iker.

“Are you okay?” the doctor’s voice tears him out of his thoughts.

“Yes,” Sergio whispers. “Just scared of needles.”

“It will be just a second,” she says calmly and sticks the needle in his vein. 

Sergio half expects to start choking immediately, or something similar, but he feels nothing. The nurse casually disposes of the syringe and the small bottle, and scribbles something in his file. 

“Well, you’re good to go,” Dr. Sánz says. “I’ll see you in two days. If there’s any reaction, tell me immediately, but it shouldn’t happen. The dosage was really low.”

Sergio nods and walks out of the laboratory. He has enough time before the next thing in his schedule, which luckily isn’t group therapy. He opens the door to his room and blinks in surprise.

Fernando is sitting at the small table in the corner with David, and they look like they are having a very important discussion. 

“Oh, hi,” David says. “We were waiting for you.”

 

 


	10. Fernando

“Sorry I’m late, then, I was letting Dr. Sánz start with my slow murder,” Sergio makes a face.

Fernando swallows hard. “Did she tell you anything?”

“She said that nothing happened,” Sergio shrugs. “What else did you expect?”

Fernando sighs. “You’ll think I’m stupid, but I… really hoped it was an accident and they would… I don’t know, at least acknowledge it.”

“Well, she _did_ tell me it was an accident and nothing could happen to me,” Sergio smirks. “But at the same time she threatened me, so… it’s probably not as innocent as she makes it look.”

“Most likely she’s under pressure as well,” David says suddenly and Fernando turns to him, remembering he’s in the room too. It’s kind of easy to forget about David once he falls silent. “Why would she defend and continue using something dangerous? Just preserving the good name of this place… would be safer to quit using it, than risking another _accident_. The more accidents happen, the more difficult it will be to cover it up. Probably they have a deal with the company that produces the thing, and they simply have to use it.”

“But that’s awful!” Fernando exclaims. “It could happen again and…”

“Probably to me,” Sergio mumbles.

“Then we have to do something about it,” David says.

Sergio laughs hysterically. “Like what? Throw all of her supplies to the trash bin? Burn this place down?”

David nods calmly. “Metaphorically speaking, yes. But I’ll need your help.”

“What kind of help?” Sergio asks.

David shrugs. “Well, first of all, I need to be able to stay here, so… fit in, which might be a problem, because…”

“Because you’re not really… gay?” Fernando grins.

Sergio practically jumps up. “WHAT?”

“I see it’s not that hard to guess,” David sighs. “Not good.”

“Wait, wait, wait…” Sergio says and holds up his hands, looking from Fernando to David. “If you’re not… then what the hell are you doing here? I mean, why would you even want to…”

“I’m a journalist,” David says simply. “I’ve been trying to expose these camps for a while, but it’s quite difficult to gather evidence. So I decided to…”

“Pull a Nellie Bly?” Fernando laughs.

David nods. “Sort of.”

“Who the fuck is Nellie Bly?” Sergio exclaims.

David exchanges amused smiles with Fernando. “Was,” he says. “A journalist who pretended to be mad to get inside a mental asylum, so that she could write about how horrible those were.”

“Why us?” Fernando asks. “Why do you trust us?”

“Oh, who else should I trust?” David folds his arms. “Those who hid in their rooms and pretended nothing happened? Or the two who actually went out to investigate and risked everything by calling the ambulance? Tough decision, really.”

“Yeah, that’s nice,” Sergio says. “But because we were the two to call the ambulance, Dr. Sánz now has us trapped. She saw us on the cameras.”

Fernando just gulps.

“As I suspected,” David sighs. “Anyway, if she wanted to kick you out, she could have already done it. But she’s keeping you. You’re making her money. Especially with your pharmacotherapy, Sergio. The stuff must cost an astronomical amount of money, and the state pays for your treatment, is that right? She can go through with the most expensive procedures and they have to cover them, because they’ve already sent you here.”

“Nice to know the state pays for something that could kill me,” Sergio says.

“Do you know what that substance is called?” David asks.

“Hell no. She calls it suppressants. But she never mentioned the name.”

“You didn’t see it on the bottle, or…?”

Fernando just stares at them. David looks like his professional mode is fully activated. Sergio looks like he’s determined to endorse this crazy plan of his. Fernando kind of wants to run away from it all.

“No. The nurse always throws the bottle away.”

David nods. “Fine. So we need it.”

“What?”

“The bottle,” David says. “You need to get it next time.”

Sergio frowns. “How?”

“We’ll think of something. If we have to, we’ll help you with it somehow.”

“Fine, if you’re done planning world war three, we have the special group therapy today,” Fernando says, looking at the watch.

“What the hell is special group therapy?” Sergio groans. “Will it be twice as long?”

Fernando shrugs. “Could be. We’re supposed to have a guest today. Some former client.”

“That could be interesting,” David says.

“No!” Fernando says. “Didn’t you say you needed to fit in?”

David gives him a confused look.

“So it’s not interesting. It’s boring and you don’t want to be there.”

David smiles sheepishly. “Okay. It’s boring. I don’t want to go.”

Fernando nods approvingly. “That’s better.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Fernando takes his seat in the circle between Sergio and David, who is pretending boredom maybe a little bit too theatrically. Then Dr. Sánz walks in, accompanied by a young man who is looking around somewhat nervously. Like this place brings back unpleasant memories.

“Gentlemen, this is Marc,” she says like she’s presenting her genius child.

“God damn, yum!” Cesc mumbles.

“Shut up, idiot!” Gerard rolls his eyes.

“What? You’re just jealous because you’re not this hot!” Cesc grins.

“I thank God every night you don’t find me hot,” Gerard makes a face.

“Marc was our patient five years ago. Now he has a beautiful wife and two daughters,” Dr. Sánz smiles. “He was so kind to come and tell you his story today.”

Fernando doesn’t really listen to whatever Marc has to say, he just keeps watching how his eyes flicker to Dr. Sánz from time to time, like he needs to make sure that he’s doing this right, and Fernando just wonders what power she holds over him when clearly he’s been gone for years now.

At one point, everyone starts clapping half-heartedly, so Fernando follows the example. Sergio looks like he’s going to throw up. David looks somewhat intrigued. Dr. Sánz steps forward.

“Do you have any questions for our guest?” she asks.

“Don’t you miss the dick?” a booming voice sounds from the circle.

“Gerard!” Dr. Aranburu hisses.

“What? It was a question!” Gerard pouts.

“Next time ask something decent,” Dr. Aranburu says. “Asier, you have no questions?”

Illarra lifts his eyes from some invisible spot on the carpet and looks at Marc shortly, before letting out a derisive laugh and shaking his head.

Before Dr. Aranburu can start with her usual tirade about Illarra never participating in discussions, David raises his hand.

“Yes, David?” Dr. Aranburu turns to him, happy that someone is saving the day.

“Did you go through other clinics before this one?”

“A few,” Marc nods. “My parents sent me to the first clinic when I was sixteen. But those therapies were kinda useless. Probably also because I was, you know, a teenager. I didn’t really… behave the way I was supposed to. But here… they really know what they’re doing. I mean… if I went here in the first place, it wouldn’t have taken so long.”

“And what kind of therapies did you do here?” David asks.

Fernando clears his throat emphatically, because David sounds nothing like a curious patient but a lot like a professional journalist. Luckily, nobody seems to notice.

“Um… psychotherapy and visualization mostly,” Marc says. “Psychotherapy helped a lot. Dr. Fernández was really good. Too bad he doesn’t work here anymore.”

“Well, Dr. González is very good as well,” Dr. Sánz says a little bit too quickly.

“I have a question,” Fernando says quickly because David is taking a breath, apparently unable to switch his professional mode off.

“Yes, Fernando?” Dr. Aranburu smiles encouragingly.

Fernando looks at Marc and takes a breath. “I… I wanted to ask… how people look at you now, you know… now that you’re cured and have a family, but they know you used to be… you know…”

“Yeah,” Marc smiles. “I get it. Well, it wasn’t easy, I’m not gonna lie. I mean, my wife’s parents of course weren’t happy she was marrying someone like me, but… they got over it. People get over it. The first few years, I felt like they were constantly suspecting me, but… now it’s fine. You have to earn their trust.”

“And you did just that,” Dr. Sánz smiles proudly and then turns to the group. “And so can you. You have to know that there’s hard work behind it, our work, but also yours. It does require some sacrifice. But it is worth it. If you take all that we offer you, you can do it.”

“Or die trying,” Sergio mumbles next to Fernando, and for some reason, Fernando really agrees with him this time.


	11. Sergio

Sergio can’t sleep. Every time he lays still and tries to close his eyes, he feels the suppressants in his veins, burning like salt, and he’s afraid that if he falls asleep, he will not wake up again. He knows that he’s being paranoid. He’s had two shots so far. Still, when he spotted a rash on his forearm this afternoon, he ran straight to Dr. Sánz’ office and demanded to be sent to a hospital.

Only to be sent back to his room, because an allergic reaction to the glue on the plaster they used after his shot was obviously not a reason to be hospitalized. Not to mention the nurse was doubling over with laughter while putting some ointment on it for good measure. She promised him they’d use hypoallergenic plasters next time, in a voice she’d use on a panicked toddler.

He kind of hoped there would be no next time.

He also desperately failed in the mission of getting the empty bottle of the substance, because he was too busy freaking out. Fernando tried to be supportive. David tried not to show his feelings, but Sergio sensed that he wanted to strangle him.

In the end, he does fall asleep at about three in the morning, and the annoying alarm clock on Fernando’s nightstand wakes him up just in time for breakfast.

He really doesn’t understand why Fernando has the alarm clock set when he wakes up long before it rings, and why on earth doesn’t he switch it off once he’s up.

When he gets to the dining room, Fernando is already having breakfast, apparently trying to talk to David, but getting constantly interrupted by Gerard and Cesc.

“Like… how can they even think that showing us some married guy with kids will motivate us?” Gerard asks. “Shouldn’t that scare us more than anything?”

“You know what scares me more than anything?” Illarra growls. “The thought that you’d ever procreate.”

Cesc almost chokes on his orange juice. “Let me tell you something, Illarra, you speak once in a thousand years, but then it’s really worth it,” he says and pops the last piece of toast in his mouth. “Anyways, gotta run.”

“You seem to be in a good mood today, Cesc,” Sergio notes.

“You bet,” Cesc grins. “I’m having my ratio checked today.”

“Is that a good thing?” Sergio frowns.

“The hell it is! You get to watch porn for free!” Cesc laughs. “I hope they got some new stuff, though, last time it sucked so much I only got sixty to forty… come on, I’m much more gay than that!”

Fernando just gulps and turns to Sergio as if he wants to see if he’s the only one horrified. “Does that mean that I will…”

“Don’t worry,” Gerard says. “The first ratio check is after three months. No free porn for you yet.”

“Well, enjoy,” Sergio says when Cesc gets up.

“Hopefully I will,” Cesc nods.

 

***

 

When Sergio comes back from his visualization, which in his opinion was just a bad attempt at hypnosis, David is sitting in their room again. Sergio can’t say that he’s happy to see him. He’s become a part of something he never wanted to be a part of.

“If you’re here to nag me again because I didn’t get you what you wanted, I’m going to play spin the bottle with Cesc and Gerard,” he growls.

It’s the second worst thing he can imagine, right after David’s reproachful looks.

“When are you getting your next shot?” David asks.

“Tomorrow,” Sergio says.

“Good.”

“That’s not good!” Sergio objects.

“Okay, not good for you, but good for our cause,” David says. “Here’s the plan. You go in, we wait for a few minutes and then interrupt them. We’ll make something up, distract them, and you’ll grab the bottle.”

Sergio sighs. It’s definitely a good plan, but he can’t ensure that he will be in a state in which he’ll be able to think of some bottle. “Fine,” he says.

“I think it was you who said we needed to hurry up, last time,” David shrugs.

“And what are you going to do when I give you the bottle?” Sergio folds his arms. “You’re acting like you’re Donald Trump and can snap your fingers and close this place just saying it’s bad, but who the hell will care? Remember that the ambulance was here, and that doctors saw what happened to Álvaro. If what they had to say about it didn’t break Sánz’ neck, then who will give a damn about what we have to say?”

David just smiles condescendingly. “You forget about one thing, Sergio,” he says. “The power of the media.”

“He’s right,” Fernando nods.

“Can you even imagine that? Can you imagine what will happen when I expose not just the clinic, but the company that makes whatever they give you? A drug they are pretending to cure people with, that can actually kill them. Something so bad it can nearly kill a healthy young man. Them making money off of it. People will be outraged. The only thing you need to tell them is that there _might_ be something on the market that’s dangerous, and who knows what other medicaments this company makes that are equally dangerous? The paranoia will take care of the rest.”

Sergio is just staring at him. “You look like you wouldn’t kill a fly,” he says then. “But you’re a fucking dangerous monster.”

David laughs. “Thank you,” he says. “That’s the best compliment I’ve ever received.”

 

***

 

The dinner is fairly uneventful, except for Cesc complaining about the quality of porn, making sure everyone knows that his preference is gay shower sex, which wasn’t included, so the results can’t be considered valid. Gerard says it’s a miracle nobody has drowned Cesc in the shower yet, and Illarra immediately volunteers.

“Sergio?” a woman’s voice says suddenly.

Sergio looks up to see Marisa standing at the table. “Yes?” he asks nervously.

“Dr. Sánz had to move your pharmacotherapy session, she has an important meeting tomorrow morning and can’t take you,” Marisa says. “You’ll have your pharmacotherapy now.”

“Now?” Sergio asks, unwittingly searching for David and Fernando with his eyes before looking at her. “But…”

“It’s actually better to do it now, you can go straight to bed and rest,” Marisa smiles. “Let’s go.”

Sergio gets up, feeling his heart racing. As he’s passing David and Fernando, David gives him a short nod.

After all, improvisation might be a better way to do this.


End file.
